Morning Habits
by Jaxrond
Summary: Everyone has their morning habits: Roman fixes his mascara after breakfast, Mercury likes to cook himself a well-balanced meal, Qrow drinks to drive away those pesky hangovers. And then there's Tyrian, one of the newest additions to the RWBY character household. As odd as he is, no one really expected this. [Crackfic].


**Warning: Crack-ness and OOC interactions ahead.**

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It was a bright and early morning, the kind of morning to which fairy tale princesses would throw open their windows and sing happily. While perhaps a certain red-cape wearing main heroine might emulate similar behavior, the occupants of one particular house most certainly would not. These were the types of mornings that were especially despicable to a certain member of the household. The afore-mentioned heroine's red-caped uncle was, as usual, hungover as he dragged himself down the stairs from his second-floor bedroom. While a normal person might head into the kitchen and seek out a pain reliever or some odd homemade remedy, Qrow was far from normal. As soon as he reached the kitchen, he dug out a fresh bottle of booze and immediately began gulping it down. To beat the hangover, he would just have to get drunk again.

Once he had his bottle in hand and his much-needed alcohol was beginning to take effect, Qrow realized that he was not, in fact, alone in the kitchen. Looking around with a bland expression, he found Mercury at the stove with a pair of skillets going as he cooked whatever it is that young cyborg criminals eat for breakfast. The silver haired young man gave him a brief nod before turning back to his cooking. Qrow tipped his bottle in return, moving to take a chair at the table that occupied a goodly portion of the kitchen. Two of his fellow RWBY stars were already seated there, Roman Torchwick, who had been an occupant of the house longer than Qrow himself, and a recent arrival, Tyrian. There were others living in the house, but, whether they were getting some screen time or just lazing around, Qrow didn't know or particularly care.

As Qrow yanked back a chair and threw himself into it, Roman glanced up from fixing his mascara in a compact mirror. Had he not been so hungover, Qrow would have been smug. He _knew_ that guy's eyelashes weren't naturally that defined.

"I'm surprised to see you up so early," the criminal mastermind said with all of his usual snark.

Qrow 'tch'ed.

"Shaddup," he said, gulping down another long drink.

Roman smirked, giving his eyelashes one last look-over before snapping the compact shut and tucking into his white coat. His bottle of mascara followed.

"No need to be touchy," he took his hat from where it sat on the table and slipped it over his orange hair, "Just a simple observation."

Qrow ignored him, knowing that to engage Roman was to score a headache, and he had enough of one already. He glanced down the table to where Tyrian seemed to be carefully picking the marshmallows out of a bowl of Lucky Charms cereal. For whatever reason, he had a straw lying next to the bowl rather than a spoon. The drunkard cocked a brow. Weird, but, hey, the guy looked happy. At least, he was giggling to himself. Which, really, wasn't uncommon.

A slightly cruel laugh sounded from the stove.

"Hmph, Roman's just jealous that the rest of us actually have screentime. The last time anyone saw him, he was eaten in the middle of a monologue," Mercury chuckled, "Talk about embarrassing."

Roman threw a scowl towards the speaker, green eyes flashing.

"Listen, kid, that was just a setup for my eventual dramatic return. I'm simply too fabulous of a villain to get rid of that easily."

At the sound of Mercury's replying scoff, his scowl deepened. Qrow glanced between them, disinterested. Tyrian's giggles grew in volume as he listened in on the conversation. He fixed his golden eyes on the previous main antagonist, grinning.

"What do we need you for when we've got a whole council of new villains coming out to play? You're washed up, old news," he leaned forward, squinting one eye in a way that definitely showed his instability, "And not to mention, dead."

Roman snatched his cane from where it rested against his chair and pointed it at the faunus.

"That's just a rumor!"

Tyrian fell back against his chair in a fit of cackling, his cereal momentarily forgotten. Mercury, finished with his cooking, turned away from the stove with a plate in hand.

"That Grimm _ate_ you. Face it, you're not coming back in the show."

Qrow chugged the rest of his bottle, tuning out Roman's angry reply. It was too early for this. Too early to be dealing with a bratty criminal and an equally prissy one. Definitely too early to be dealing with a cackling maniac.

Bottle empty, Qrow got up and staggered off to get another, missing how Roman, finally fed up with the personal insults, got up and left the room, swearing that he would return soon enough and that his death had been a lie. There was a moment of quiet afterwards in which the loudest sound was the clink of bottles as Qrow rummaged through his cabinet stash.

"Couldn't you at least put a shirt on? Spare us all the horror?" Mercury directed the jab at the drunkard, apparently unable to deal with the lack of conversation.

"Nope," wandering around in just a pair of dark pants, Qrow really didn't give a damn if the kid was upset or whatever. He was comfortable, and he was staying that way. Finding what he wanted, he shut the cabinet and turned back towards the table, leaning back on the counter. He smirked then, "Jealous that you don't look this good?"

Mercury snorted, nearly inhaling some eggs.

"As if."

Tyrian chuckled in amusement, having finally finished sorting his marshmallows from the cereal itself. Qrow's smirk widened.

"You should be. You're such a twiggy little bastard…it's a wonder you have the fanbase you do…"

Mercury didn't deign to look at him as he took another bite.

"And you? You're a drunk pain in the ass."

Qrow shrugged, grinning now.

"Chicks dig badasses. The fact that I can handle my liquor just adds to my sex appeal."

The boy muttered something that sounded like an insult, but, Qrow didn't care enough to listen closely. He _was_ becoming vaguely interested in what Tyrian was doing, aside from crouching in a chair like some kind of strange bird of prey. He cocked a brow as the odd man dumped the cereal from his bowl, replacing it with the marshmallows. He then produced a lighter, ignited it, and held the flame over the contents of his bowl. He seemed rather intent on his task, so Qrow didn't bother asking what he was doing. Mercury was doing his best to ignore the other villain's odd behavior.

There was silence while, presumably, Tyrian waited for his marshmallows to melt. After some time, he prodded them. Apparently, they had reached the proper consistency, a multi-colored mass of goo, because he grinned excitedly and put his lighter away. He then picked up the straw, which had, strangely enough, been cut in half. Before Qrow could even begin to fathom what the guy wanted with two halves of a straw and a bowl of marshmallow goo, the faunus had jabbed one end of the straw into the bowl and the other up one nostril.

Mercury and Qrow stared as Tyrian snorted a good amount of the marshmallow paste through the straw, both so shocked that they forgot for a moment that they were supposed to be eating and drinking respectively.

Tyrian leaned back from the bowl for a moment with a satisfied sigh, still grinning away.

There was a long pause. Then, Mercury abruptly stood from the table.

"Yeah, uh, I'm just gonna take this in here…" he left the room, taking his food with him.

Qrow remained for a moment, watching as Tyrian giggled and then took another long inhalation of the sugary substance in his cereal bowl. Then, he too left the room.

It was _way_ too early for this shit.

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 **I hope you enjoyed the random stupidity of this crackfic, which was born from a discussion had by those of us who use the RWBY Big Bang discord chat. Please, leave a review to let me know!**

 **Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, or the idea itself. I just wrote it.**


End file.
